


just an Eternity away

by jjxneus



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Multi, Temporary Amnesia, celestial embodiments!xirado, gays in love, it'll make sense as you read :D
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28989981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjxneus/pseuds/jjxneus
Summary: Every night Geonhak sleeps, and every night he dies, and every night he wakes up here in this garden where Dongju resides.They're both waiting for someone although they don't remember who, but maybe, just maybe, their luck will change tonight.
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Son Dongju | Xion, Kim Youngjo | Ravn/Son Dongju | Xion
Comments: 8
Kudos: 29





	just an Eternity away

**Author's Note:**

> happy birthday to me and to this ship tag (thank you to ei for starting it even though i'm >:[ that you beat me to it)  
> I love these three so so much

“You’re back again.” 

It’s the first thing Geonhak hears when he comes to; eyes closed, lying flat on his back. he is, of course, greeted by Dongju when he opens his eyes. The latter says nothing more, only waits for a reply as Geonhak sits up and brushes off pretend dust from the leather armour he’s wearing this time. last time had been chainmail, and before that had been no armour at all. 

Dongju, however, looks as he always does — long blond hair tied back with a ribbon, dark brown eyes, and blue lips. he looks cold as he kneels down by the flowers, attention already focused elsewhere, fingers ghosting over the petals as Geonhak sits up. he looks cold, but Geonhak knows there is a heat burning in Dongju that seeps out as warmth in his touch. 

“You’re still here.” Geonhak replies as he pushes himself up to stand. 

“I live here.” 

“Right.” he coughs a little awkwardly, feeling a little warmer as the corners of Dongju’s lips twitch up in a smile that would have been unnoticeable if Geonhak hadn’t known him as well as he did. 

“Still don’t see the person you’re looking for?” Dongju asks softly, standing up and gesturing to the rest of the flower field. the stamens, as if on cue, all glow a little brighter. It's become a familiar sight by now— the path snaking between the groups of flowers across the garden. Geonhak's not sure when he’ll get used to knowing that every living soul is represented by a flower here in Dongju’s garden— but that’s okay, he thinks, he has all the time in the world— perhaps he even has an infinity, his own little forever. 

“No,” he answers, “are you still waiting for your person to return?” 

Dongju’s smile grows sad and he nods, “I am. but i have a feeling he’s coming home soon,” his voice falters, “I barely even remember him, but I know he’s waiting to see me like I’m waiting to see him. Maybe your luck will improve tonight too?” 

Geonhak shrugs a shoulder and averts his gaze. It’s a faint hope, but a hope nonetheless, that propels him onward. every night he sleeps, and every night he dies, and every night he wakes up here in this garden. And every time he’s here he searches in vain for the one soul he remembers having met here eons ago— but his memory is hazy, their face is blurred and obscured whenever he tries to remember, and all he’s left with is the melody of their voice. But every time he’s awoken in the garden after that first time, it has been Dongju who has greeted him and not the nameless stranger. 

So he walks with Dongju now, as he always does whenever one of his lives ends and he is hesitant to begin his new one the next morning. Every day he awakens in a new life, as a new person, at a different stage of life — but he always awakens in the garden as  _ himself.  _ he doesn’t understand— why he is always someone new, always someone connected to the war that is dying down in the human world, whether it’s as a soldier or a medic or a disenchanted citizen with a shattered life. 

He has so many questions and no answers. 

But for now, they walk side by side as Dongju tends to the garden— encourages fresh new flowers to bloom, and carefully removes the ones that have withered and wilted. Those ones he always places away separately, in their own special garden where the soil is blackened and the sunlight twisted— a large garden that Dongju forbids Geonhak from nearing. 

Geonhak's own flower, they had discovered when they’d met, was a curious little thing. 

It would not die, no matter how many times Geonhak himself did — it persevered, always tiptoeing on the line between life and death, never tipping over into either side, as if it belonged exactly where it was halfway between the two. 

There were things Dongju had yet to tell him, something more to his role in this garden beyond being its guardian. but he dared not pry — perhaps, ignorance truly was bliss. or perhaps he simply wasn't ready to know. 

They walk close to each other now, Dongju’s arms swinging idly as he moves, and the white fabric of his jumpsuit and cape gliding smoothly although they step over uneven ground and dirt. Geonhak has learnt not to question a lot of things about Dongju. And neither of them say a word as their fingers tangle together, holding onto each other’s hands as they approach the garden of death. 

This time, this night, Dongju does not stop him from approaching. 

“It’s time.” Dongju whispers. 

A crack in the world appears before them, travelling down vertically until it splits apart and, with a burst of black feathers, a man steps out. He’s dressed head to toe in black, brushes black bangs out of his eyes, and adjusts the black feather pauldrons that sit atop his shoulders. He’s beautiful — feline eyes and pretty lips as he blinks, before his eyes focus on Dongju beside Geonhak and those pretty lips stretch into a grin of pure joy. Dongju runs forward immediately, throwing himself directly into the man’s arms and hugging him close. 

“Youngjo—” Dongju whispers, pouts, “you’re late.” 

And the man, Youngjo, lets out a laugh as he presses a gentle kiss to Dongju’s forehead— and suddenly everything clicks together and shatters all at once with the sound of it. 

All of a sudden, Geonhak understands why his flower walks the line between life and death. He stares at  _ Life and Death  _ standing before him and he  _ understands.  _

“Youngjo.” his voice sounds foreign to his own ears, too raspy and uneven and rough and  _ wrong—  _ but Youngjo and Dongju are staring at him and they’re smiling and there is so much warmth in their gazes and something else. something in them seems to  _ shatter  _ as well and he knows they understand as well, they all understand, they all  _ remember.  _

“Our Eternity.” Youngjo addresses him as he wraps an arm around Dongju’s waist and holds his other hand out towards Geonhak, voice soft and gentle and  _ loving.  _

Geonhak takes a shaky step forward, then another, and another, as the leather armour disintegrates off of his body and is replaced by the black and white fabric of comfort and familiarity. But he doesn’t care about that, no, not when he’s running forward and into the arms of  _ his  _ Life and Death who hold him so, so close— so close he could never imagine ever being anywhere else— cannot remember why he could have ever left. 

“Why—” he chokes out, forehead pressed to theirs,  _ “why?”  _

“The human’s war.” Youngjo whispers, pressing a kiss to Geonhak’s forehead, “we had our duties to attend to, and the fates are cruel.” his words take a second to sink in. 

“We had to forget, so we couldn’t stray from our roles.” Dongju breathes out, voice shaky as he turns his head to press his face into Geonhak’s shoulder. 

And it all makes sense now, Geonhak realises, with Youngjo’s hand cupping his cheek and Dongju’s breath against his neck. he’s  _ home  _ now, they’re all home— they  _ are  _ his home. With a war raging in the human’s world, they all had their part to play — Life nurturing the garden and ensuring all souls were blossoming while wilted souls could move on, Death amongst the humans in their final moments to pass them on, and of course, Eternity ensuring no souls were escaping their fates while lost, displaced souls could find their own home to go to. It hits him, all at once, everything rushes back in emotions and fragments of lives he’s lived and every memory he’s made with  _ his  _ Life and Death through the billions of years they’ve known and  _ loved  _ each other. 

The garden blooms around them, endless and free, and finally they collapse to the ground. They fall in a clumsy heap with laughter on their lips. Only Youngjo lands on his knees with Geonhak sprawled out, his head on Youngjo’s lap and hand holding Dongju’s, and Dongju himself sitting cross-legged with stars shining in his eyes. 

“We made it back.” Geonhak says, voice low and calm and unwavering and  _ his.  _ Their “I love you”s go unspoken but they all know. And the garden glows a little brighter, grows a little warmer, as both Youngjo and Dongju smile at him with love in their eyes that he knows is mirrored in his own. 

They’re  _ home.  _

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me here  
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/jjxneus) ♡ [cc](https://curiouscat.me/jjxneus)


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